


i'm the Queen tonight

by Luna_Writes_Stuff



Category: History (Band), K-pop
Genre: F/M, i love kyungil too much for my own good lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-10-24 22:02:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17712422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luna_Writes_Stuff/pseuds/Luna_Writes_Stuff
Summary: You, the reader, decide to take charge in the bedroom this time. Fun times all around ensue <3Warnings:Handcuffs, breathplay, eating out/sort of facesitting, smoking, hickeys, and Kyungil gets slapped. Also, don’t be idiots like them and use a condom





	i'm the Queen tonight

**Author's Note:**

> **Written 01/23/17**

He glares at you angrily from underneath his bangs, hands wrenched above him and handcuffed to the bedpost. He’s cross-legged on the floor, all muscle and intimidating presence, but even his strength does nothing to help aid his escape. It simply makes the handcuffs dig into his wrists and jangle annoyingly against the wood, only serving to remind him that they are stronger than him, and they are holding him in place.

His expression darkens when he sees you, a dangerous look on his otherwise handsome face, and his lip curls back from his teeth – he’s pissed, that much is blatantly obvious. Pissed might be an understatement, even. You don’t really pay it any attention.

After all, it was his fault he’d gotten so drunk around you. He’d felt at home around you, and he’d let down his guard – he should have known better than to get so wasted – and you’d taken advantage of it, handcuffing him to the bed you shared and taking it upon yourself to remove his shirt. You’d been his girlfriend for long enough that he should have known this would eventually happen, that you would have found a way to get what you wanted.

You always got what you wanted when it came to him.

“Where’s my shirt.” Kyungil’s voice is nothing less than a growl, and you wordlessly point to your side, where it sits folded carefully. You yourself sit with your legs crossed on the floor across from him, eyes trained more on his abs than on his actual face. You wonder if he’s cold – you left the window open, and there’s a nice cool breeze floating in from outside.

You knew he hated how you were looking at his body and not his face – you liked the way his expression turned nastier when he noticed.

“Let me go.” It’s a flat out order – no emotion behind it other than an unspoken threat. You knew he was bluffing.

“Hmm.” You pretend to contemplate it, but he furrows his brow and you can tell he’s seen through it immediately. “No. I want to have fun first. So we need a safe word.”

“We have a safe word.” He says this like you’re an idiot for forgetting, and you simply grin back.

“Then I guess we’re all set.” You respond easily, moving up on your knees to pull your shirt over your head. Kyungil’s eyes are hard on your body, scoping out every inch of skin – he’s seen it all before, and he looks annoyed that he can’t touch it now unlike every other time.

“Let me go.” It’s the same order as before, but it sounds more urgent this time and like less of an order and more of a request. You know he’ll never beg, nor go submissive willingly, but with his hands literally tied you were sure it wasn’t going to be too hard to get him to go along with you plan. Probably.

“No.” You scoot the tiniest bit closer to him, reaching out a hand to gently stroke his platinum blonde bangs out of his eyes – he blinks in appreciation at you, though the hard and angry lines of his face are still present. “Is your hangover bad?”

“If I say yes, are you going to let me go?” He’s clearly expecting your headshake in the negative, but your kiss takes him by surprise for a split second before he responds hungrily, straining against the handcuffs to get closer to you. Despite his handicap Kyungil dominates the kiss easily, biting at your lips until you let him in and then scoping out every inch of your mouth with his tongue – your hands lace through his hair, tugging at the dyed strands periodically until he releases your mouth. His bee-stung lips are shiny with your saliva, and his neck is craned back ever so slightly from your hands fisted in his hair.

You bend down to suck at his neck, hands still in his hair – he sucks in a harsh breath, somehow still sounding angry, and you can hear him pull at his handcuffs again. He’s never been in a situation like this, where you were mostly in complete control – he’s handling it well, however, and you’re not worried in the least. Kyungil’s responsible enough to use your safe word if things take a route he isn’t comfortable with.

A dark mark has appeared on his tan skin, purple blossoming out from your ministrations – similar ones dot your collarbone, though they’re much more faded. When you glance up you notice his eyes have slipped closed – he’d never admit it, but you knew he enjoyed it when you marked him - but a sharp nip to his jaw instantly has them flying open, a curse ready on his tongue as your hands fisted full of his hair keeps him from jerking away.

“What the fuck?” There’s definitely some bite behind his words, but not enough to deter you from what you’re doing – you smile up innocently at him, and he narrows his eyes back, not buying it. “You better take these off –“

He breaks off into a gasp as your hand closes in around his neck, effectively cutting him off – you two have done this before, and you know how far you can go and when you need to stop. If you watch closely enough you can see the way his pupils are slowly dilating, and when his eyelids start to flutter shut you let go. Kyungil gasps in air and looks at you in confusion, but you don’t say anything – this was part of your plan. Choking him was just to show him who held the power in this little game.

And it wasn’t him.

He’s still moderately irked, but you don’t pay it any mind and drop your head to attach your mouth to one of his nipples – a sharp intake of breath is the only reaction you get from him, but that’s okay. Just because he wasn’t very vocal didn’t mean you didn’t have any way of telling if he was enjoying himself.

His dick was just as good, if not better at telling you how  _much_  he was enjoying it, and when you glanced down you could see the outline of it clearly through his jeans.

“You seem to be enjoying yourself more than you want to admit.” You murmur softly, blowing cool air against the skin you’d previously had your mouth on – a visible shudder wracks his body at the change in temperature, and you take his momentary shift in attention to reach down and squeeze his bulge.

Kyungil grunts and bites at his bottom lip to keep quiet as you stand and slowly unlock one of the handcuffs. It’s all part of your plan, and you knew he could over-power you at any moment – but he doesn’t. He lets you guide him up and onto the covers, simply watching you with dark eyes as you re-handcuff his hands to the opposite end of the bed. He’s curious, and ultimately that’s the reason he’s still handcuffed, head resting more comfortably on the pillow, helpless once again. It’s his curiosities fault that he’s surrendered his dominance.

You strip quickly, not making a show out of it in favor of hurrying, climbing up to sit on his chest – he supports you easily, eyes locked onto your frame hungrily, gaze dropping down to your pussy. His fingers wrap around the chains of the handcuffs tightly – he knows that pulling on them is fruitless now, but he does so anyway. The metal creaks threateningly, but ultimately he makes no headway and simply puts on a show for you as you watch the muscles in his arms tighten at the strain.

“You need to –“ He’s cut off with a slap to the face, head jerking to the side – your own palm stings a bit, but it’s a small sacrifice for the way his eyes widen, platinum hair falling back into his face. You wonder if you’ve gone too far, but when he pulls his head back up to look at you he’s smirking, almost like you’ve initiated a challenge.

Of course you hadn’t gone too far – Kyungil liked it rough. He had scratch marks on his back to testify to that, and he’d barely been fazed by you choking him earlier.

“Is that how it’s gonna be?” It’s phrased as a question, but you know he doesn’t mean it as one – you match his smirk easily, a silent agreeance. “You better get started, baby. You’re soaking my chest.” It’s an exaggeration, but you flush anyway, and he seems immensely satisfied with your flustered reaction.

You may be wet, but you knew you sure as hell weren’t  _dripping_  onto him. Not yet, anyway.

“Shut up.” You mean for it to be an order, but it comes out mumbled and indignant, and he has the gall to laugh at you – you should have gagged him when you had the chance. It’s a lesson learned, now.

Swallowing your embarrassment you scoot up higher, moving to hover over his neck – his eyes travel up your body and lock onto your face, silently gauging your intentions. You’d done things like this before, of course, but never in this position.

Pushing yourself over the last barrier is harder than you had thought it was going to be – you knew you weren’t going to hurt him, but the entire thing suddenly seemed like a bad idea. What else were you supposed to do, though?

“Hurry up, babe. I wanna taste you.” His words, despite being a deep rumble in his chest, are the sort of urging you need and in no time you’re lowering yourself down onto his mouth, gasping out as he wastes no time in thrusting his tongue in as deep as he can. This is usually the part where he pulls back and tells you how good you taste, but he physically can’t pull away, and you wonder if he can even breathe. (He doesn’t seem to care much for air either way, because no matter how you press down on him he surges up, trying to get more, to get closer.)

Kyungil’s vigorous in his endeavors, and your hands fly down to lace through his hair as his nose rubs against your clit – you know it’s intentional from the way he chuckles against you, and the vibrations it sends through you have you writhing on his tongue above him. Your vision is locked blearily on his handcuffed hands, the pads of his fingers digging into the metal chains.

Your entire body felt like it was on fire, and Kyungil’s tongue and lips and everything was the instrument stoking that fire. He switched between licking and sucking with no real obvious patterns, and each time a moan slipped out between your lips he rewarded you with a suck directly on your clit that sent your head spinning.

In no time at all you were orgasming onto his tongue, body arching forward and hands tightening in his hair to the point where you swore you’d heard him whine – then again, all your senses were so fuzzy at that point you weren’t sure it wasn’t you whining.

You end up slipping off of Kyungil without even realizing it, sitting in a shuddering heap beside his chest while he watches you with dark eyes, chest heaving as he sucks in air. His lips and chin are both shiny from your juices, and a spark runs through you when he licks his lips to glean any last taste from them in between his gasping breaths.

“Let me go.” His voice is much rougher than it had been previously, and you feel compelled to obey – he scoffs when you reach up and click the fast release mechanism on the side of one of the cuffs. He hadn’t even thought to search for one of those.

He grabs your shoulder with his warm hand and drags you over in front of him, and you’re powerless to resist as he lays you out beneath him, body still weak from your orgasm. The handcuffs still dangle from his left wrist, but he doesn’t pay it any mind – he rips his pants off faster than your eyes can follow, though you focus in on his impressive bulge hidden behind a pair of unassuming black boxers. You off-handedly wonder if those jeans had been hurting him, containing such a big package.

You reach for them but he knocks your hands away and wrenches them down to his knees, not even bothering with the time it would take to remove them completely. He’s needier than you thought he’d be, and while it hurts when he pushes into you with no warning the pain isn’t enough to cause you to speak up. You know it’ll bleed into pleasure soon enough.

Trying to lock eyes with him is pointless – Kyungil’s shut his eyes tightly, head bowed and jaw set – because the force of his thrusts jostle you so badly that it’s hard to directly focus on anything at all.

“Kyungil..” His name leaves your lips in the form of a soft moan, and his head snaps up so he can lock eyes with yours, his hips evening out their pace as he takes in your beautiful face. It takes three seconds before he’s kissing you, your arms locking around his neck as he changes his pace, sliding deeper inside of you than before as he sacrifices speed for finesse.

His has high stamina, but tonight is completely different – you’ve riled him up too far and gotten him too needy for him to last as long as usual, and he orgasms with a groan that you swallow up with your own mouth.

He stays still for quite a few minutes, softening inside of you while you stroke his hair and let him calm down. It’d be an easy enough thing to get him ready again for round two, but this fun idea of yours had been more exhausting than you’d expected, and you weren’t sure you’d be able to handle it.

When he finally collapses down beside you he kicks his boxers the rest of the way off almost as an afterthought, and you don’t comment on it – you’d both slept together naked enough times that by now it didn’t even faze you. Kyungil holds up his left wrist while reaching for the cigarettes on the bedside table, and you silently congratulate yourself for your foresight in opening a window as you click the handcuff off of his wrist. He takes a long drag and rests the now unhandcuffed hand on your bare shoulder, warm fingers rubbing at the skin – you can physically feel him relaxing, and when you look up at him he meets your gaze and smiles.

“I love you.” He says it unabashedly, and you giggle when he leans down to brush his nose against yours affectionately. He’s so different during sex that sometimes you forget how sweet he can be.

“I love you too. How are your wrists? Your shoulders?” He places the cigarette between his teeth to hold up both his wrists, inspecting them. You peer at them from your place nestled between his arm and his side – they look red and painful, but at least the skin hadn’t been broken.

“It’ll be fine in a day or two.” His words are slightly warped from the cigarette, but still clearly intelligible. “I don’t need ice or anything.” He squeezes you tightly against his side for a moment before leaning away to put the cigarette out in the ashtray – when he lays back down you’re pulled back to his side, his fingers wandering up into your hair to massage at your scalp.

“That was fun.” Your voice is soft, and his deep chuckle vibrates through his chest and into your body.

“That was fun.” He echoes back, grinning and turning his head away from you when your gaze suddenly locks onto him. “Don’t get any ideas. I’m not saying we should do that again.”

“You’re not?” Both you and he knew this was going to happen again at some point. It was inevitable. “That’s too bad.” He laughs again and you join in, all his anger and pent up neediness from before completely gone.

The rest of the night is spent in comfortable silence – though you’d convinced him into getting up to get something to clean both of you off with - your head resting on his chest and his hand in your hair, the soft drone of the world outside your window lulling you into a comfortable and sleepy state. It’s only broken by Kyungil’s deep voice a good ten minutes later.

“You know, it’s going to be my turn to have some fun with you next.”


End file.
